


habitual

by WhereverMyWay



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: BDSM, Choking, Dacryphilia, Dancer Lee Minho | Lee Know, Dancer Seo Changbin, Degradation, Edgeplay, Edgeplay NOT Edging, Explicit Sexual Content, Fights, Impact Play, It's Not Friends With Benefits If You're Not Friends, Jealousy, M/M, Profanity, Risk Aware Consensual Kink, Rivalry, Sadism, Semi-Public Sex, Shameless Smut, Subspace, i was sleep deprived when i wrote this, literally two dudes having a go, please read the tags and disclaimers, spitting, starting 2021 with a bang, yeah i gifted this to myself because it's 2021 and that's the energy we need
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:22:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28454559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhereverMyWay/pseuds/WhereverMyWay
Summary: Minho was good at dancing, and Changbin hated the competition. He hated Minho more than anything, and he needed Minho to know that.The worst part of it all was that Minho loved every second of it, just like always.-Alternatively: "I love/hate you so much, I want to hurt you and make you cry", the fic.
Relationships: Lee Minho | Lee Know/Seo Changbin
Comments: 21
Kudos: 124





	habitual

**Author's Note:**

  * For [WhereverMyWay](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhereverMyWay/gifts).



> **disclaimer: this is a work of fiction!** any reference to persons in this work of fiction are purely coincidental. the characters referenced from Stray Kids are interpretations loosely based on their personalities in the group and do not represent the real people behind the personas. if this, or any of the content included in the warnings above make you uncomfortable, please stop reading now.
> 
>  **secondary disclaimer:** alright, so here's the thing. this fic involves **consensual** actions of violence against another person. you shouldn't just beat the shit out of your partner/s, that's not a good thing to do. what's only briefly discussed here is that this is a regular thing that these two indulge in (hence, "habitual"). the form of BDSM here is definitely on the more extreme end of sadism/impact play (i.e., "edgeplay", very different from edging), and they know their limits and stop if safeworded and don't use their full strength when impacting the other party.  
> so, be aware that there's minimal negotiation here, and not much overly-detailed aftercare. 
> 
> **ALSO** : this includes subspace, where someone totally slips off into another plane of consciousness, similar to being intoxicated, where they are completely in another person's hands. this requires a LOT of trust with both parties. i cannot stress that enough.  
> TL;DR: do your research and communicate whenever you explore any sort of BDSM/impact play because this shit can _seriously_ harm you if done improperly.
> 
> anyway, i watched the minho dance solo video (we finally got it!!!) and got inspired to write more self-indulgent minbin before the end of 2020.  
> fuck 2020. none of my homies like 2020. :)

“Your footwork was sloppy, Lee Minho.” Amongst the sea of praises Minho was receiving for his most recent performance, his ears perked up at the one criticism thrown at him from across the hotel room that served as a makeshift dressing room. The voice caused the brunette to scoff, smiling down towards his feet before he slowly turned around.

“Seo Changbin,” Minho said, folding his arms. “To what do I owe the displeasure of your fucking company?”

The raven-haired man slowly approached, sauntering over to the brunette at the call of his name. “Maybe you shouldn’t’ve fucked up your footwork. Maybe I’d still be here anyways.” As the man got closer, the devoted followers of Minho quickly dispersed as the tension built in the room. 

“Again?” One whispered in a low voice.

“You know how much they hate each other,” another responded. “Best to stay out of it.”

The brunette rolls his eyes. “You know, you’re like an untreated STI. You never fucking go away, and nobody likes you.” Their hateful banter was normal for them, just another part of their agreement that stood after their competitions and performances.

Changbin takes a few steps closer, getting into Minho’s personal bubble, silently acknowledging the unspoken agreement with his advance. “You have some nerve saying that to the man who wiped the floor with you at last year’s nationals,” he growls under his breath, taking a handful of Minho’s soft hair into his hand and tugging his head back. 

They were centimetres apart from brushing their lips against each others’. Kissing, however, was not in the rules. Kissing was too far out of the realm for what they did.

Kissing was for couples, and that was enough to make either of them cringe.

“Yet you lost today, huh?” Minho tutted sarcastically. “Guess you’re not that good after all.”

Minho lifted the corner of his lips into a snarl, then balled his fist up and connected it directly into the middle of Changbin’s stomach, causing him to double over and stumble a bit backwards. Luckily, the would-be crowd had vanished by the time they got this close to each other; they always did.

It was a routine of theirs, a fucked up tradition that was uniquely them. Someone would do well during a competition, and the other would have their own special way of “congratulating” the winner. They would humiliate each other, get into physical fights that got somewhat violent. It was never at full strength, but it was just enough to build up tension. It was all a part of their agreement that they had set many months ago, after they got into an actual fist fight that got too bloody and out of control for their own good.

They tried not to speak about it, since ended up with them both having the roughest, most passionate sex of their lives. There was nothing that could compete with it. So, when they could no longer avoid it, after weeks of avoiding each other, they eventually repeated the same mistake they had made the prior, and came to a mutual agreement.

Boundaries. Limits. Safewords. Exclusivity, since Minho preferred to keep things unprotected. 

It was like a cathartic relationship without any of the emotions involved, all of the emotions but envy. Unorthodox, but strangely wonderful.

Changbin grinned, gripping his stomach as he stood upright. “Someone must be awfully pent up after getting his undeserved win, hmm? Not even going to grace me with your usual pleasantries of rubbing it in my face?” He swung his right foot up, intending for it to collide with Minho’s head, but it was caught just before impact.

“It’s been awhile since I fucked you over on the dance floor like that, so I figured I would be nice for once.” Minho said with a wide grin, holding Changbin’s leg up in the air and causing the younger man to squirm to hold his balance. “I want to be like a cat and play with my prey a little bit before I chew you up and spit you out.”

The younger man shook his leg free from the brunette’s grasp, turning on his heel to walk towards the door. They say nothing as Changbin turns the lock, ensuring that no one would accidentally walk in on the havoc they were about to cause. The calm before the storm. “That’s cute,” he says with a sarcastic scoff, cracking the knuckles in his hands as he took a couple of steps to the middle of the room, moving some of the furniture out of the way. “Same system like always?”

Minho moved a nearby chair and rolled the joints in his neck. “Colours, yeah. My legs are sore from kicking serious ass out there, so you’re gonna have to put in all of the work this time.” His complaint came out as a bit of a sarcastic whine as he looked at the younger man with an insincere pout. 

Changbin took a step towards the middle of the room, readying his stance, fists drawn up in front of him. “I can’t wait to wipe that stupid look off of your fucking face.” 

“Ha,” the older man chortled, rolling his shoulders back as he licked his lips. “You gonna cry and beg for mercy when I get you in a chokehold again?”

The younger man gritted his teeth, knowing that was just a ploy to get him riled up. “I’d like to see you try, fuckface.” His voice was low, obviously trying to cover up his irritation at Minho’s verbal jab.

“Are you gonna stand there all day, or are you going to come after me?”

“Oh,” Changbin mused, “I was just waiting for you to be ready. You’re always the one that takes too long, pretty boy.”

Minho huffed, wiggling his fingers before balling them up into fists. He opened his mouth to speak, but brought his arms up to cover his face as Changbin took a couple of quick steps forward in approach. 

Changbin’s right fist collided against Minho’s forearms, causing the older man to sarcastically tut, making some sort of underhanded comment. However, Changbin didn’t pay attention to what was being said; he specifically waited for this, because Minho dropped his guard ever so slightly every time. He took the knuckles that were touching Minho’s forearm, unravelling his fingers to grab at his wrists, then swung his leg to crash into the elder’s ankles.

The contact caused Minho to stumble, but Changbin caught him midair for a moment, then dropped him to the ground, careful enough to ensure that his head didn’t hit the ground. Changbin hovered over him for a brief moment, enjoying the look of confusion painted on Minho’s face. There was a flash of a grin for a moment before Changbin spat directly onto Minho’s forehead. “I bet you like this, don’t you? You like feeling pathetic and helpless under me, huh?”

Minho squinted in response, then quickly shuffled his shoulders to wriggle free just enough to get leverage to push Changbin onto his back. “You’re predictable.” He wrestled his right hand free to quickly wipe off his forehead, then took the opportunity to wind that hand backwards and slap Changbin square across the face with a very loud thwack that ricocheted off of the walls.

Changbin let out a noise that was somewhere between a groan and a whine. His ears were ringing, and he had to rotate his jaw a few times before he regained his composure. He looked up at Minho with a scowl that shifted into a smirk. “So, you wanna play rough, huh, baby?”

The younger man brought his knee up between Minho’s thighs, just under where his tight, yet flexible, performance pants kept his balls in place. He gently rocked his knee back and forth, grinning as the elder was rendered useless, stuck in one spot in nervousness. Changbin brought his hands up to Minho’s collarbones, running his thumbs along the divots in the bones. He dug his free foot into the ground as leverage to prop himself up, then got into the brunette’s face and dropped his voice. “Are you gonna cry for me again, pretty boy? You know how much I love to see tears fall down that stupid face of yours.”

Minho tried to keep a whine restrained, but it still slipped free from his throat, causing the grin on Changbin’s face to only widen. “I’d like to see you try,” he breathes out, glaring down at the younger man. “If not, I’ll just cry from how pathetic the sex with you is, just like always.”

Changbin leaned in closer and nipped at Minho’s bottom lip for a brief moment before bringing both of his heels to the ground and shoving the older man backwards, causing him to collide against the ground on his tailbone. It wasn’t a kiss, just a calculated way of inflicting a sharp jolt of pain. “Hit me again.”

It took a second, but Minho took in a deep, calculated breath as he shifted to his knees. They sat on their knees, staring at each other for a moment: Changbin took in the way that Minho’s lip was starting to redden and swell, while Minho was watching the red handprint slowly bloom on the cheek in front of him.

“Real talk for a second,” Minho let his expression fall for a moment, “I know I usually let it all out on you after I win, but I want you to be the one in charge this time. It’s just been…” his voice trails off as he squints, “This week has sucked, even though I won this performance, I guess. Is that okay?”

Changbin bites his lip and nods, a bit taken aback by Minho’s vulnerability. “Yeah, no, that’s fine. You sure?”

“Well,” Minho shrugged, “I just know how this usually goes. I know you like it when I go all out on you.”

“It’s _fine._ It’s not like we can’t swap next time,” Changbin pressed. “Fuck, I thought you were gonna make this romantic or some shit.”

Minho winced. “Ew. I have _standards.”_

The black-haired man cocked an eyebrow with a stifled smirk. “And I have _taste._ Please, you’ll never meet my expectations.” They share a brief laugh with each other, and Changbin tilts his head. “You still want me to top you after, though, right?”

“Yeah,” a nod from Minho.

“And I can still smack your ass and drag my fingernails down your back?”

Minho inhaled through his nose, trying to maintain his composure. “Please, yeah.”

“Thank god.” Changbin rolled his shoulders back.

The brunette nodded again, trying not to smile. “Will you fucking hit me now?”

Changbin clenched and unclenched his fist in preparation. “Face?”

“Face, stomach. Don’t care, just don’t break my nose.”

With that, both men tensed for a moment before Changbin took in a shaky inhale, then let out a long, controlled exhale through his mouth. He opened his eyes wide, training his gaze on Minho’s face, targeting the smooth, unmarked skin of his cheek.

There’s a brief second where Changbin looks like he’s going to bring his fist to Minho’s face, but he shifts course at the last minute, balling his hand up into a fist and bringing it into the spot just above Minho’s navel, almost as if it were payback for earlier. The collision knocks the air out of the older man, causing him to lose his balance. Changbin moves in to catch him, bringing him back to his knees.

They’re close to each other’s faces, close enough to feel the warmth radiate off of each other. If this were like a casual dating relationship, they would probably break the tension here with a kiss. Changbin, however, has a different proposal in mind. “Can I try choking you again?”

Minho shifts his weight from one knee to the other, rubbing a hand over the newly-tender spot on his stomach. “You were disappointed last time.” He says, though it’s a bit strained, his diaphragm fatigued from the last hit.

“I think I got the technique down this time. Practice, research, you know.”

The older man nods and shrugs. “Sure.”

Changbin brings his hands up to Minho’s neck, gently placing his thumbs on either side of his trachea. It takes a minute, trying to find the exact spot he had practiced on himself since the failed prior attempt. He searches, softly kneading the taut skin until Minho tenses up, involuntarily rolling his head back a bit. 

“There?”

Minho timidly grunts in affirmation, his hips shifting a bit as he reaches up to Changbin’s arms for stability. He’d never admit it to his rival, but the thrill of having his life in the hands of someone that hated him just enough to keep things interesting, but not enough to actually harm him, was probably the most exciting aspect of whatever this relationship between the two of them was. 

Maybe they didn’t _actually_ hate each other. Maybe that wasn’t important right now.

“You’re gonna squeeze my arms twice when you want me to stop, yeah?”

Minho nodded once, letting his head lull back, his eyes fluttering shut. The last time Changbin tried to choke Minho, nothing happened. They tried asphyxiation after the failed choking attempt, but the grip wasn’t quite right for that, either. After a few minutes of fumbling, they agreed to give up on it and Minho had taken Changbin into a chokehold, pulling his hair back until he had cried.

This time, though, was different. It was so much better.

“You’re pathetic,” Changbin’s voice was breathy, his face flushing from taking in the sight of Minho starting to unravel in his hands. Minho let out a soft whine in response to Changbin’s insult. The younger man brought himself closer, watching every micromovement on the elder’s face. “What kind of sick fuck begs to be beaten up by his competition?”

A garbled whimper comes up from Minho as he digs his fingernails into Changbin’s arms twice, the indicator for him to stop. Immediately, Changbin loosens his grip on the older man’s neck, gently rubbing his thumbs over the spots he had just dug into. “Colour?”

Minho took in a deep inhale, coming back to reality. “Green. Just… was starting to slip.”

“Do you not wanna slip today?”

The elder shakes his head. “I do, but not from this.”

“Tell me, then.” Changbin tilts Minho’s head up, forcing them to make eye contact. “I can’t read your mind.”

“Beat me,” Minho’s voice is breathy, like he’s slowly starting to lose himself in the euphoria of the rush of endorphins, “just like always. When I slip, that’s when I want you to fuck me like the savage I know you are.”

Changbin tries to bite back a smile as he watches Minho’s pupils start to widen. “You trust me?”

There’s a single nod and a breathy “yes, duh,” from Minho before the tension in the air shifts. 

This happened every time. One of them would start to slip into subspace, and then there was a total loss of control from the one drifting off. When that happened, the one in control was completely in charge, having to pay close attention to each small detail in the other to make sure that things weren’t going too far.

Changbin loved it when Minho completely unravelled in front of him, when he allowed himself to slip into subspace. He liked feeling trusted enough, even by his rival; it was a different type of power that very few people experienced, and fuck, was it delectable.

“So, you want to be treated like the useless loser you are, huh?”

Minho nodded once, relinquishing his head from Changbin’s hold.

The younger man brought his head closer to the elder’s ear, his lips brushing up against the tiny hairs that rested on his cheek. He dropped his voice down low, almost too low to be heard. “Use your words, otherwise you’re not getting what you want.”

The brunette shivered, attempting to stay mentally grounded. He reached his hands up to Changbin’s biceps, tilting his head slightly to bring his lips to the younger man’s ear. “Wreck me.”

That was all it took.

Changbin pulled back with a smirk, then kneed Minho in the stomach at less than half-strength, nowhere near enough to actually hurt him, just enough to knock the wind out of him. He then shoved the older man to the ground and backhanded his face. They made eye contact, and Minho nodded once. 

“Pathetic,” Changbin whispered before he spat on Minho’s face, taking his hand and rubbing it in a bit before he hooked his index and middle fingers into Minho’s mouth. He dug the tips of his fingers in just behind his teeth, forcing his mouth open. They stared at each other as Changbin positioned himself over the older man, opening his mouth and letting a bit of saliva drip from his tongue down to the top of the teeth in front of his fingers.

Minho’s eyes were half-lidded, and he let out a quiet moan. 

He was slipping, and it was approaching quickly.

“You really want me to fuck you, huh?” Changbin brought his knee up between Minho’s legs, rubbing it against the firm cock caught behind the tight pants. “Wow,” the younger man sighed. “Imagine getting this hard from being treated like the trash you are.” He bent down a bit closer, moving his wet hand to tilt Minho’s face down, forcing them to make eye contact. “You’re pathetic.”

With that, Minho was gone; transported into the mindless trance he wanted to be in. His head rolled back and he whined, rutting his hips into the air. “Changbin”, he breathed out, repeating the name over and over again softly, like it was a mantra that would keep him high up in the clouds.

Changbin moved quickly, letting go of Minho’s face. Minho would probably stay here throughout the rest of their session, but Changbin didn’t want to waste any time. He brought himself to his knees, pulling a packet of lube from his back pocket, tossing it down to the floor next to Minho. 

His hands were trembling and sweating a bit as he moved to undo Minho’s slacks. Sure, they had done this several times before, but the fact that Minho was on an entirely different level where his life and wellbeing was all in Changbin’s hands was nervewracking. It caused the younger man to feel like he had drank too much coffee, shaking in the same way that he would from consuming too much caffeine.

Luckily, when Minho was this far gone, he wouldn’t be able to see the nervousness written all over Changbin’s face. If he had seen it, there was no way that the younger man would ever live it down. 

Changbin had pulled Minho’s pants down to his ankles, not surprised that the older man wasn’t wearing underwear; he usually didn’t during his performances, worried about the lines that would show up. His cock slapped against his barely exposed stomach, bobbing to the rapid pace of his heartbeat, precum dripping down and leaving streaks against his skin. 

It was a sight that the raven-haired man wanted to revel in forever, because it was his _rival,_ all fucked out just for _him._

“Wow, how pathetic,” the younger man said with a smirk. “Look at how much precum you’ve leaked out for me.” He lifted up the loose button-up shirt covering Minho’s stomach, a fading pink mark against his skin that was the size of Changbin’s kneecap. It made him feel paradoxically aroused, yet also a bit guilty, knowing that he was achingly hard because they hurt each other so much.

Changbin shook his head, focusing in on the moment. “Open your mouth.”

The older man weakly nodded once, dropping his jaw and sticking his tongue out. Two fingers were placed atop the warm, wet tongue, rolling around a bit in the slightly viscous saliva. 

“Put that mouth of yours to use and suck on them. Get them nice and wet for me.”

Almost mechanically, Minho closed his mouth, sucking hard on the fingers in his mouth. He softly closed his eyes and moaned against the skin, causing a rush of nerves to jolt from Changbin’s fingers all the way down to his toes.

He didn’t _need_ Minho to suck on his fingers, he just wanted to keep Minho in his subspace while he enjoyed taking control.

“Is that the best you can do?” Changbin scoffed, ripping his fingers from the moist warmth of Minho’s mouth. He didn’t want to, but he needed to keep moving. Much like Minho, his cock was begging for relief, starting from the first hit to his stomach and only building more and more until now. 

Minho whined at the loss of Changbin’s fingers, bringing his knuckles to his mouth to bite on, reaching his other hand down to his dick before Changbin swatted it away.

“Did I tell you that you could help yourself, or are you just that fucking horny?”

Another soft whine, slightly muffled by the joints in Minho’s mouth, another breath escaping Changbin as he watched.

The younger man hastily reached for the packet of lube he had discarded, bringing it to his teeth as he unbuttoned his pants, undoing them just enough to be able to slip inside at any moment. He tapped Minho’s thigh twice. “I need you to roll over.”

A choked affirmation got stuck in Minho’s throat as he shakily moved to his side, Changbin sliding a supportive hand up his back to give him the push he needed to get all the way to his knees. The elder wasn’t able to totally support himself, his upper half melting into the carpet beneath him, his lower half only staying in the air due to Changbin’s supporting hand.

“You can’t even do this properly?” He tutted, voice slightly muffled from holding the foil of lube between his teeth. “I can’t say I expected any less from you. You never do anything right, do you? What a shame.” Changbin kneaded the soft skin of Minho’s thigh, moving his hand up to the firm, tense muscle of his toned ass. “At least you’ve got a useful hole, huh?”

Minho let out a whine, muttering something incoherently into his arm.

Changbin huffed, rolling his eyes. He plucked the lube packet from his mouth, holding it between the damp fingers of his right hand as he brought his left hand behind his head. He took a deep inhale as he wound up his arm and slapped his hand against the flesh in front of him. He knew Minho probably didn’t feel it to the same extent that he would have outside of subspace, but he still made sure to keep his strength in check. “Use your words. Enunciate, so I can understand you.”

The brunette whined, rolling his head against his forearm before he tilted his head up slightly. “Use me,” was all he could muster before his head dropped to his arms again.

“Don’t have to tell me again,” Changbin quietly muttered to himself as he brought the lube packet up to his mouth, haphazardly tearing it open and spilling the sticky, tacky liquid into his hand, slathering it up against Minho’s entrance. The sudden contact caused the older man to tense, letting out a mewl as he leaned into the touch.

“Need you,” he whined into his arm.

The younger man smirked to himself, loving how much Minho had come undone, and how much they still had to go. Once there was enough lube all over Changbin’s fingers, he slipped his index finger in slowly, making sure to grab Minho’s hip with his free hand, accurately predicting that he was going to collapse at the touch.

Minho let out a shaky moan, fingers haphazardly digging into the carpet. 

“You really want people to hear you, huh?” Changbin teased, pushing his finger in as slowly as he could muster. “What if someone walked in and saw you here like this for me? The great Lee Minho, three-time national champion rendered down to nothing more than a sloppy, filthy mess, begging for his biggest rival and his cock?”

Sure, nobody was here anymore, and the door was locked, but getting lost in the idea alone was good enough for both of them. Minho leaned into Changbin’s touch, whimpering incoherently again. Before the younger man could scold him, he brought his mouth away from the crook of his elbow. “Let them watch,” his voice was weak, but dripping with anticipation. “Want them to see you…” he paused, taking in a deep breath as Changbin gently stroked the pad of his index finger against Minho’s soft walls, “see you use me.”

Changbin slipped his middle finger inside, causing Minho to bite his lip and unravel a bit more, nudging his elbow with his forehead and shifting his weight around uneasily. “See me use you like the slut you are, the way you deserve to be treated, yeah?”

Minho could only manage a nod as Changbin’s fingers slipped further inside.

The brunette would probably stay in subspace until just after he came, but Changbin was starting to get impatient. He moved his fingers around a bit, scissoring them around, each stretch causing Minho to cry out in time to each motion. 

“Now,” Minho whined impatiently.

Changbin cocked his head to the side. “It’s only two fingers.” 

“Now, please,” he whined again, turning enough so Changbin could see his teary eyes.

“You’re going to be sore if I—” Minho glared at Changbin, tears slipping down his face. “Fine,” the younger man shrugged, making sure to take his sweet time as he pulled his fingers out one by one. Minho liked to push for things beyond his normal comfort zone while he was in this headspace, not fully registering how tender he would feel the next day until it was too late. 

As much as Changbin hated Minho, he didn’t want to cause any unnecessary discomfort for him. Sure, they beat the shit out of each other semi-regularly, but it wasn’t any fun if it _actually_ harmed either one of them. 

The younger man continued to hold the brunette’s hips up with one hand, hastily slipping his cock through his boxers and slathering his hand in the residual lube. Sure, sleeping with only Minho was irritating, but he did secretly enjoy the fact that their exclusivity meant that they didn’t need to fumble around with condoms on top of everything. 

He brought himself totally upright onto his kneecaps, knowing that he was going to have rugburn and sore knees tomorrow, but that wasn’t a problem to concern himself with now. With a gentle, guiding hand he tilted Minho’s hips backwards just a bit as he lined himself up against his entrance. 

“Don’t come until I’m done using you, understood?”

Minho let out a strangled affirmation, and that was good enough. Changbin knew he would come well beforehand anyways, but the power always went to his head. He revelled in the thought of having someone completely in his control, even if it didn’t always go according to plan.

Changbin slowly slid inside of Minho, the tightness causing him to cross his eyes for a brief moment, whispering various strings of profanity under his breath. He was thankful that Minho was out of it, because he _absolutely_ would have made fun of the younger man for the faces he made as he bottomed out. 

A long, drawn out moan escaped Minho as Changbin’s length filled him. He sank further into the floor, drool and tears pooling under his head, staining the carpet.

“I’m surprised someone as used as you can even feel my cock inside of you,” Changbin’s voice was breathy as he tried to maintain his tough persona, slowly moving his hips back before he slammed back into Minho. He knew his degradation would keep Minho in subspace the more he talked down to him, the more he would melt and fall apart. It fed into why exactly they both loved their unexplainable dynamics.

“Changbin,” Minho muttered into the carpet, whimpering the name out repeatedly with each thrust, the fabric catching each syllable in a scratchy embrace as it etched its own nonsensical phrases into Minho’s knees.

“That’s right,” the younger man bit his bottom lip as he continued thrusting, reaching down to palm the brunette’s cock. “Tell me who owns you and this pathetic hole of yours.”

Minho continued whining, his prayer-like, repetitive devotions getting more and more desperate and high-pitched with each thrust and every stroke of Changbin’s hand. His cries were almost as loud as the sounds of wet skin slapping against wet skin, adding more of their sexual energy into the room around them, bringing them both closer to their climaxes.

“Wanna come,” Minho mewled, tilting his head up just a bit, just enough for Changbin to hear.

“I told you,” a pant interrupted Changbin’s sentence, “you’re not allowed to come until I’m done using you.” His words sounded like he was scolding Minho, but yet he continued to stroke the cock in his hand, if not a bit more energetically now.

“Gonna…” The brunette started to tremble, his body convulsing as he held his orgasm back.

“Didn’t tell you,” Changbin was trying desperately not to come as the man beneath him was unravelling, “didn’t give you permission.”

Then, Minho suddenly arched his back with a loud, sharp cry that echoed off of the walls, spilling his cum into spurts against the carpet, some landing on his shirt, some getting caught up in Changbin’s fingers.

That was enough for Changbin to lose control completely. He thrusted in one final time, his cum lining Minho’s walls in uneven bursts. He let out a shaky exhale as he came, taking a hand and raking his nails down the soft skin of Minho’s back.

There was no way Minho was going to get the deposit back for the room rental, not with how many bodily fluids they had spilled into the carpet, but Changbin didn’t care.

* * *

They never talked about the aftercare softness and cuddles: the antithesis of how much they hated each other. Changbin helped Minho come back to reality, bathing him and comforting him afterwards as Minho returned to normal. It was somewhat embarrassing, sure, but there was no one else that Minho nor Changbin trusted with something like this.

In a way, they were friends with benefits, yet they weren’t friends. “Rivals with benefits” was probably a bit more accurate, even if it sounded harsh. Perhaps it was best to not dwell on the intricacies of their dynamic. Questioning it too much would bring up feelings, and feelings were exactly the opposite of what they wanted to develop.

Changbin shook his head, trying not to look between the lines of friend and rival. “Can’t wait for your next win, babe.” He winked as he adjusted the scarf around his neck before he opened the door to leave. “You’re such an easy lay, you know?”

Minho scoffed, flipping off the man as they stared at each other. “Get bent. Next time, you’re the one that gets to cry on the floor while I wreck you.”

Changbin smirked, blowing the man a sarcastic kiss in return. “You couldn’t handle another round.”

“Hey,” the older man furrowed his brows and followed the younger man, “get back here and say that to my face!”

**Author's Note:**

> happy 2021!
> 
> consider leaving a comment. they make my day. ♡


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